


New York loft hunting, Part I

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [121]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Canadian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF, The Boys (TV 2019) RPF
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 13:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: In Citadel, Antony Starr is an AU (alternate universe) character. He tells people he's an IT Risk Management and Computer Security Consultant (his official cover) but really he's a ex-military, sometimes mercenary, computer hacker and master thief hired by collectors and other ruthless people to steal for them: art, jewels, money, information... Citadel knows Antony's true occupation and he would never target the organization or any of its membership. Through Cit, he's met Stephen Amell (played RL) and fallen hard. This is their story.





	New York loft hunting, Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Antony Starr/Stephen Amell storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

Antony could've just sent a car or let Stephen grab a cab but it's not his style. Not when fucked up schedules mean they actually _have_ spent a night apart in the month he promised they wouldn't. So instead, Antony's leaning against the side of the Citadel car, the driver keeping his own ass toasty warm inside while he waits for Stephen to come out, the airport as crazy as always.

Because of the fuck ups, which were his end - Stephen had not been in the best mood when he'd boarded his plane to fly to New York. He'd made it clear he didn't need Christos to hold his hand on the flight, and that his PA would be better use to him sorting out the shit storm his schedule had become thanks to a fuck up with production. So he'd taken the flight alone, taking the time to catch up on some sleep and read some of the property details that Antony had emailed him.

Beanie pulled down low, a coat buttoned up tight, he makes his way through the airport buildings toward the exit, head down, shoulders hunched over, hoping no one will recognise him.

"Hey!" Antony calls as Stephen makes to walk past him. "Hey, beautiful!" he tries again, the din around them too much to be worried. "Stephen!" He grins.

It's the first 'Hey' that breaks his intense concentration on 'getting out of here fast', and the 'Hey, beautiful,' that has his face creasing up in a smile before he's even finished turning to scan his surroundings. By 'Stephen' he's got his eyes locked firmly on his husband. "Hey you," he returns, his direction altered to bring him up beside Antony.

Antony's grin widens. "Want a ride?" he asks, nodding at the car behind him.

"Fuck yeah," Stephen reaches out to give Antony's forearm a quick squeeze. "Thank you, I was just going to grab a cab... but this is... so much better."

"I couldn't wait to see you," Antony answers, opening the door and letting Stephen slide across the backseat before joining him. "You have the addresses?" he asks the driver before putting up the tinted divider and turning to Stephen. "I missed you," he says, leaning in for a kiss.

His bag shoved up against the door, Stephen tugs off his beanie as he leans in for his kiss. "I missed you too." Silly really, given they spend so much time apart, and this was just one night. "I'm sorry for the fuck up," he murmurs as he nuzzles against Antony's whiskers, inhaling his husband's scent.

"It happens," Antony says, in no rush to pull back. "Did you get things straightened out?"

"I set Christos on them," Stephen smirks, pressing closer, seeking another kiss.

"Ah, that'll do it," Antony grins, licking into Stephen's mouth. "God, you taste good."

"You really missed me huh? Just a day?" Stephen reaches up to cup Antony's neck, turning into him more.

Antony nods. "Is that so hard to believe?" He kisses Stephen again.

"We spend so much time apart," Stephen smears the words against Antony's mouth. "It was just a day."

"But I was expecting to see you and we were on the same continent," Antony points out, nibbling at Stephen's lower lip, " _plus_ I always miss you. You're never far from my thoughts when we're parted."

"Good, I always want to be the first thing you think of when you wake, the last thing when you sleep," Stephen pulls back now, loosening his hold on his husband. They're going straight to a viewing, no point in getting all worked up with no immediate means to slake their need of each other.

"You are. Always," Antony promises, sitting back as well. "Scott's got us in to see five places today, four more tomorrow if we don't see anything we like today."

"Wow, we need to see so many?" Stephen's brows shoot up, he'd thought that they'd whittled it down to less than that. "Or did you suddenly change the spec again, Mr Extravagant?" It's a tease of course. Until the wedding, Antony had been very sensible with his money, but buying Stephen's 'wedding jet' had seemed to give Antony a taste for spoiling them both.

Antony ducks his head a little at that. "I added the two big ones back in - the one in Soho and the one in the West Village. I just want to see them."

"I thought we agreed they were way too big, beautiful, but too big?" Stephen shakes his head, "If we were living up here full time, then yes, but for something we won't spend a lot of time in?"

"I know but what if I have to entertain?" Antony says, although he knows damn well he can just take clients out. "I signed the lease on the offices so I'll definitely be going back and forth." He grins. "Let's just look."

"Seriously, you're trying to sell me on the excuse you might 'entertain', you who hates letting anyone into your private space?" He can't not laugh at how ludicrous Antony's excuses are becoming.

"Okay." Antony sighs, looking like nothing so much as kid who's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "You want to take them off the list? Or can we at least look at the first one? I really love the kitchen and those ceilings are incredible."

"Yes, darling man, we can go and look at it, okay? Just so you can see how over the top it is." He pats Antony on the knee, amused at how close his husband is to actually pouting.

"Good, because that where Scott's meeting us first," Antony says, texting their agent to let him know they're almost there and they're taking the large West Village one off the list.

"You sneaky fuck." Scrubbing his hand through his hair, his beanie still clutched in his other, Stephen takes a moment to look out of the car window.

Antony chuckles. "I deserve that," he says, leaning over to press a kiss to his husband's shoulder. "How was the flight, by the way?"

"Fine, caught a nap, escaped being noticed," Stephen turns to grin at Antony. "Odd to be on my own for a while, no you, no Christos."

"I'll bet," Antony says, smiling back. "Speaking of being noticed, do you want to eat out or in tonight?"

"I don't mind, maybe we can see how much energy I've left, being circumspect all the time is a pain in the ass."

"We won't have to be too careful with Scott," Antony says, thankful for small mercies. "He helped Bradley find his place here."

"Oh that's a relief." The car pulls over and stops. "Am I okay to just leave my crap in here?" Stephen asks, patting the pockets of his sleeveless zip up body warmer to check for his phone and wallet.

Antony nods. "We've got the car for the whole day," he says, letting the driver know he'll text him when they're ready to move on. He holds the door to the building open for Stephen and starts to greet the concierge when Scott waves to them from in front of the elevator.

"I've already signed us in," he calls, motioning for them to join him. "Hi. I'm Scott," he tells Stephen. "We talked on the phone. It's great to meet you in person. How was your flight?"

Stephen shakes the hand of the tall blonde realtor, he's good looking, similar in age to them too. "Yeah it was great, thanks," Stephen nods, no need to point out it was in his own jet, so was a whole other level of luxury.

"Good. So, there's only six units, all of which are penthouses taking up the entire top floor of this building, the Puck Building," Scott tells them, pushing the button for the top floor. "The others have all been sold so this is the only one on the market. It's three beds, four baths, almost 5000 square feet and the list price is 18.5. There's a full-time doorman/concierge, in-residence service and catering from the Chefs Club by Food & Wine restaurant available." He beams at them. "Any questions?"

Stephen turns from the clearly gleeful Scott to his husband with an arched brow of 'are you serious' - because this place is even larger than their home in LA. "Any questions, Antony?" he drawls with amusement.

"Is there room for movement?" Antony asks. "The unit's the smallest and it's been on the market three times, never owned, with a reduction each time."

Scott blanches slightly but recovers quickly, the elevator chiming softly as the doors open. "Well, 18.5 _is_ the reduction but I'm sure they'd be open to hearing any offer you wanted to make."

Stephen unzips his body warmer as they move along a very swanky hallway, passing large impressive doors to each unit. It's very nice indeed, and something Stephen's sure he could get used to - as he has so much since meeting Antony. _Spoiled much huh?_

Antony nods. He can't resist the urge to bargain even when he knows it's unlikely they'll buy. Scott opens the door and ushers them inside. It's fucking gorgeous, absolutely breath-taking and there's a part of Antony that wants it just because he can have it. The ceilings, the kitchen, the views. All of it's even better than the photos. Fuck.

As they move through each room, Scott detailing each and every feature Stephen watches Antony as his husband takes it all in. He bites back a smile and keeps his face neutral as he nods with interest. He can't deny it, the place is stunning.

"What's security like?" Antony asks, running a hand over the kitchen island.

"There's the full-time concierge, 24 hr security guard, cameras, unit security, and the front doors can be outfitted with thumb or retinal scanners if you'd like," Scott explains. He knows how security conscious Antony is and given they'd dealt with the same question on every commercial property they'd visited, he'd assumed it would come up on the residential ones as well. "There's also an in-unit safe and a small safe room in the master walk-in." He smiles at Stephen, making sure to include both men in the discussion.

Stephen nods, reaches out to put a hand on Antony's arm. "Scott, would you leave us alone please?" His question is asked mildly, but the inference is clear.

"Of course." Scott nods. "I'll be in the foyer if you need anything." And with that, he leaves his clients alone but boy, what he'd give to be a fly on the wall with these two.

Stephen turns and pushes up to plant his butt on the island top, looks around the kitchen and smiles at his husband. "So... I'm thinking you're pretty much sold huh?" he teases gently.

"Yes," Antony admits with a smile, moving between Stephen's legs, his hands braced on either side of his husband's hips. "But I know you don't want something this big. I just wanted to see it."

"Darling man, it's you that will be spending more time here than me. If this is what you truly want? If you think you won't rattle around here and feel lonesome, then you have it, it's your money." Stephen leans in to press a kiss to Antony's forehead in an unusually paternal gesture.

"What about when you're shooting TMNT?" Antony asks. "Would you be comfortable here on your own?" Because as much as he wants it and as much as Stephen's given his blessing, he's not sure it's right for them.

"I'll be filming, which means long ass days, I won't have much time to spend here beyond sleeping, so it won't make much difference to me," Stephen shrugs. "It'll be like staying at the club, without all the sexy benefits." Grinning at that, Stephen nudges Antony out of the way so he can slip off the island and onto his feet.

"You don't want to check out the other one? The two bedroom on Sixth?" Antony asks, thinking about the whole slew of listings Scott originally sent them.

"Let's go see some more..." Stephen nods, it's the sensible thing to do. "We're here, it's all planned out, and that way we'll not wonder if we missed out on something more 'suitable'." Using air quotes, he moves past Antony. "And you could always buy this as an investment anyway, rent it out, who knows? We might want to end up living here permanently in the future." He throws that little bombshell of an idea over his shoulder as he wanders out of the kitchen.

It's not often anything surprises Antony but that sure as hell does. "I could be a real estate mogul," he grins, following his husband.

When they find Scott, Stephen plays it all cool, with an off hand, "Yeah it's gorgeous, but it's much larger than we need." They pile back in the car and head off to view something much more 'suitable'.

Antony hates the next two places. Outright hates them. One's too big, too white, too pristine and the walls are like fucking cardboard. The one after that is cute but they can barely move in it and the price is way too high for what they're getting. But finally they get to the one Stephen liked the look of in the listing and Antony smiles the moment they're let in. "I like this," he says, nodding at the brick feature wall in the main room.

"Yeah," Stephen nods, his tone distracted as he tips his head back to look up at the windows in the ceiling above the lounge area. It's much smaller than the first one they saw, less extravagant, less opulent, but it has a wonderful warmth to it. He can see himself here, more so than the first one. "Needs repainting," he murmurs as he walks past Antony.

"It's 1300 square feet, two beds, two baths over three floors," Scott tells them, following slowly behind, trying not to get in the way. "Asking 2.25. This is the main floor - kitchen, great room - and the upper is the master suite while the lower has the second bedroom and bath and a gorgeous garden."

Stephen throws a look over his shoulder at Antony as they make their way up the stairs to the master suite, the bedroom is small, much smaller than they are used to, but so far it's the only down side. "I like this one, Tony," he offers quietly.

"I do too," Antony admits. He still prefers the first but the way Stephen's looking at this one? "The location's not the greatest though," he says to Scott. They're just that little bit off to the side of 'the' neighbourhood.

"No, it's not," Scott admits, "but they're about to redo the whole park. They have a huge grant from the city. All the buildings are being renovated, more stores and shops are popping up every day. You won't be able to improve on the property but you'll see a huge increase in value over the next few years and you'd be better off buying here than a few blocks over. That neighbourhood's already arrived while this one's up and coming."

Antony nods. "Can we get you to give us a few minutes?"

"Of course. I'll wait in the hall," Scott says. "Make sure you check out the garden and laundry. Full laundry in a place this size is a major selling feature."

"I can see us here," Stephen turns, checking they're alone before he slides his hands up and over Antony's shoulders. "I can see either of us here on our own too, it's warm, cosy, it's not too big." He glances around, his mouth curved up in a smile. "How about you buy the other one for investment, and I'll buy this, instead of a bathroom for our beach house."

"Okay." Antony nods. "I'll buy the other, rent it out, and we can stay here," he says, eyes crinkling, his hands on Stephen's hips. "But it's not nearly as secure as the others we saw so you're going to have to let me go all secret squirrel on you and put in a full security system, safe, fingerprint reader..."

"I expected nothing less," Stephen leans in for a quick kiss, Antony's lips warm and dry against his own. "My darling man has his most precious belonging to keep safe after all."

"Damn right," Antony grins, taking a moment to simply enjoy having Stephen in his arms. "We can probably get everything done, including the painting, before we move in." He smiles, finally pulling back. "Should we go tell Scott?"

Stephen nods. "And we can cancel all the others, meaning we've tonight and the morning all to ourselves. Yay!" His nose wrinkles up in amusement at himself. "Now please, go and play hard ball with that guy, we're not paying full price for either property and seen as he'll be getting two lots of commission I want him to work for it."

Antony laughs. "Watch this," he says, taking Stephen's hand and leading them to the front door. "You want to come back in?" he asks Scott who slips inside, his phone quickly shoved in his pocket. "This one and the first. We're willing to make offers on both."

"That's wonderful," Scott says, "but you can only make one offer at a time. If the owners accept, you'll be stuck."

Antony shakes his head. "We want both properties. The Puck Penthouse as an investment and this one to live in. I'll offer 16 on the first taking into consideration it's never sold and we'll start at 1.9 on this one. It needs repainting and security and it's been on the market for over a month."

"There's no way they'll come down that much on the penthouse," Scott says, but he's already frantically calculating commissions on both deals if they go through.

"You never know til you try," Antony says with a shrug, "and at this rate they might not have another prospective buyer for a really long time."

"I want you to do your best for us Scott, I'm not prepared to pay full price for either, and we're not above going back to the drawing board if necessary," Stephen warns softly.

Scott sighs. "Okay." He nods. "What about financing?"

"Don't need it on either," Antony says, shaking his head, Stephen's hand given a squeeze.

"Let me see if I can get a hold of either owner," Scott says, pulling his phone out. Normally they'd put everything in writing first but he knows Antony and Stephen are back to LA tomorrow and the owners are... motivated on both properties.

"Shall we leave him to it?" Stephen leans in close enough his breath dances over the shell of his husband’s ear. "You owe me a late lunch and a cuddle."

Fuck. Antony bites back a groan. "Scott? We're starving. We're going to grab some lunch and do some shopping. If you hear anything, you can call me."

Scott nods his assent, listening to the line ring. Gives them a thumbs up just in case.

"Where do you want to eat?" Antony asks, closing the door behind them.

"Don't care, I'm on Antony time, which means I can eat what I like," Stephen laughs, they're no longer touching, but he feels connected to his man that no touch could surpass. "So either somewhere stupidly expensive and fuck the dress code, or some amazing burger joint, either works."

"Let's combine the two," Antony says, texting their driver to pull around. "Louis told me about the perfect place." He lets their chauffeur hold the door open for them and again slips into the car after Stephen's in, always watching the street and people around them. Gives the guy the address before putting the divider back up.

"Yeah? A really overpriced burger place huh?" Stephen snugs back up against Antony the moment they have their privacy back.

" _Gourmet_ burgers," Antony grins, wrapping his arms around Stephen. "With the best onion straws and fries anywhere, outside Citadel, according to Louis."

"Wow." That's praise indeed. "And here I was thinking you'd take the first opportunity to get me back on safe turf and get me naked," Stephen teases, rubbing his hand along Antony's warm, denim clad thigh.

"I thought about it," Antony confesses. "But then I figured you might actually want a break and some time out in the big city before I do my best caveman impression."

"See? They all say it starts to wane once you're married," the regret drips from Stephen's tone, but his eyes dance with amusement as he teases his husband. "I just didn't expect it quite so soon."

"They do, do they?" Antony murmurs, sliding his hand up under Stephen's shirt, over his stomach. "There's a reason I ordered a Citadel car."

"There was?" Squirming, Stephen arches up into that touch, humming out a pleasure noise as his skin starts to sing beneath Antony's touch.

Antony nods, shifting so he can get his mouth on Stephen's throat, his fingers working Stephen's jeans open.

"Oh fuck..." Stephen's head falls back against the headrest behind him. "How... do you do this to me?" he groans, his cock is already rock hard beneath the fabric Antony is busy working on.

"We were made for each other and I know you," Antony murmurs, wrapping his fingers around Stephen's cock. "Every inch of you. You're mine." Nipping lightly at Stephen's throat, enough to leave a mark for now, for them, but nothing that'll fuck up his husband's work.

 _You're mine..._ Those words have a very physical effect on Stephen, he gives a full body shudder and he tips his head over offering Antony more of his throat. They've been slowly, but surely, reintegrating kink to their lives, baby steps each consciously negotiated, but this... Stephen feels himself slipping away, and he lets it. "Sir..."

Antony strokes Stephen's cock, bites at his throat, his own cock throbbing, filling completely. That word, fuck, one of the sweetest he's ever heard. He hits the intercom and tells the driver to drive around until he's told to stop. "I want to fuck you, boy," he growls, nipping a little harder.

"Yes! Sir, anything, whatever Sir wants," Stephen whimpers softly. "Mark boy... please..." To hell with work, makeup can cover it, right now he needs to offer himself up to his owner.

Antony manhandles Stephen, shoving him over on the seat, his jeans dragged down over his ass. He plucks a packet of lube from his pocket, drizzles it between Stephen's cheeks and shoves two fingers inside him, spreading it around and working him open.

It feels nasty, sordid almost, being finger fucked open in the back of a car, like some cheap slut, but fuck it feeds Stephen's head space. "Please," he begs. "Please use this boy..." He pulls at his own clothing, exposing more skin, wanting to present himself in some way.

"I'm gonna," Antony breathes, adding a third finger, his free hand opening his own jeans, freeing his own cock. Fuck. "I'm gonna breed my bitch. Fill his cunt so full of my come he can fucking taste it."

Stephen bears down the moment he feels Antony's cock at his entrance, his body greedy to be filled. "Yes... please... please, fuck boy... breed boy..." Feverish in his lust, Stephen reaches back, trying to grab at his Sir.

Antony pushes in hard, making room for his cock in his boy. Forcing Stephen, his boy, his cunt, to take every last inch. He groans as he sinks deep, reaching around to grab his boy's cock and stroke as he fucks him.

Grunting with each thrust, Stephen arches back, wanting it all, everything Antony wants to give him, his cock bubbles precum over Antony's fingers and his body flushes hot.

"Fuck, yes," Antony growls, biting at the back of Stephen's neck, his cock sunk into his boy again and again, hand working him without mercy. "You're gonna come for me, aren't you, boy? All over the fucking seat."

"Yes Sir..." Stephen slurs out his assent to his Sir's demand, his cock kicking up against Antony's rough attention. His fingers close around the leather of the seat edge and then as his balls pull up he closes his eyes, his body shuddering as he orgasms hard.

Antony growls again, teeth digging in, every muscle seizing tight as he follows Stephen over, pulse after hot thick pulse flooding his boy's hole.

Stephen doesn't slump, or move, he stays still, taking the weight of his lover on his back as Antony gains his breath and comes back to himself. He's shaking hard, aware he's more than a little in his subspace - and for the first time in a while, he's at total ease with it - even here, in the back of a car, on a New York street.

"Good boy," Antony murmurs, running his hands over Stephen's hips as he savours that last aftershock before finally easing out. He sits back, jeans still open, and pulls Stephen to settle beside him, the mess he's left on the leather wiped up with a tissue. "I love you," he says, helping Stephen with his clothes.

Stephen had half expected to be ordered to clean the leather seat with his mouth, as per his contract, but clearly Antony is still not ready to enforce all their original rules. He allows Antony to help him redress, still a little dazed.

"You okay, Stephen?" Antony asks, watching him, aware his boy's still under.

His eyes flutter at the use of his name and Stephen takes a deep breath before nodding. "Yeah, I'm good, great." And he means it, although it was a short dip into their D/s dynamic, he feels amazing for it, like he used to.

"Good." Antony grins, still watching Stephen, so fucking in love with his husband and so fucking grateful this went well. Out of their home, out of the club, outside any comfort zone. "You still feel like eating out? We can go back to the club if you want. Grab something there."

"My ass is full of semen and if this is a high end place you're suggesting, I'd rather not leave a damp patch on my seat," Stephen smiles, leaning into Antony. "So take me back to the hotel, feed me there and you can take me shopping later."

"That's what I figured," Antony says with a laugh, "but I didn't want to change our plans without asking." He presses the intercom again and tells the driver they'd rather go to back to Citadel after all.

"Was that a celebratory fuck? We've almost bought two lofts... in a city we don't live in. We must be mad!" Stephen turns his face up to press a kiss to the corner of Antony's jaw.

"You're just figuring this out now?" Antony teases, his phone suddenly ringing. "Yeah?" Mouthing, "It's Scott," and then, out loud, "You're on speaker."

"Is Stephen there with you?" Scott asks.

Stephen pushes up out of Antony's arms, he rolls his eyes at the question. "Yeah I'm here," he calls out, tugging his long sleeve tee back over his belly.

"I've talked to the owners of the place on Sixth and they've countered at 2.1," Scott says. "That's very close to market in my opinion."

It's half way and a fair deal for somewhere they both love. He glances at his husband, his brow raised in question. "What do you think?" he mouths.

They've come down a lot which tells Antony they'd probably come down even more but why waste the rest of their time here quibbling over what might only be a few thousand in the end. Better to have the current owners going out happy than pissed off and resentful. He nods at Stephen and gives him a thumbs up.

"Are you still there?" Scott asks.

"Yeah," Stephen smiles, leaning in to plant a loud kiss on Antony's cheek. "We'll take it." And his smile couldn't get wider.

"That's fantastic. I'll draw up the paperwork and you can stop by tomorrow morning," Scott says. "Hopefully I'll have heard about the Puck Penthouse by then as well."

"Sounds good," Antony agrees, too busy smiling back at Stephen to really care what Scott said.

"Yeah the boss here wants that one, so do your best huh?" Stephen pushes the point, because he wants Antony to have the place he's set his heart on. "Thanks Scott."

"You got it," Antony says, when they've hung up. "That's fantastic."

"Huh, and there I was expecting to only spend your money today." Reaching up Stephen cups Antony's face, smiling and teasing, "You are a bad bad man."

"So I've been told," Antony laughs, turning his head to press a kiss against Stephen's palm.

"So I'm hoping your place comes through too, we've celebrating to do." Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Stephen draws back a little. "And we're one less bathroom down on the beach house."

"We can celebrate yours." While Antony does love the penthouse, if it doesn't come through, he'll be fine. He has his offices, which are amazing, maybe even better than the LA ones, and now they have a place to stay here. He grins. "How many does that put us at? And when are we planning on looking?"

"Oh I don't know," Stephen shrugs it off, to be fair the beach house still seems like a mad plan - and between their recent schedules issues not one Stephen's given a huge amount of attention to, off loading it instead onto Christos. "Let's just savour this huh?"

"You're right," Antony nods as the car pulls through the club gates and stops in front. "C'mon. Let's get you changed and then we can grab some lunch in the bar." He's still in the mood for a burger and if they spend too long in the hotel room, they'll never make it back out to explore the city.

"Changed? I need a quick shower," Stephen protests as he slips out of the car, grabbing his holdall. "But I'll be five minutes, tops, I promise." He reaches out for Antony's hand, because, here, on Citadel turf they get to be as open as they like.

"Okay." Antony grins, linking his fingers with Stephen's. "I'd offer to wash you but we both know how that would turn out."

"Hmmm," Stephen makes a soft humming noise of pleasure as he thinks on that. "Yeah we do," he agrees.

"I thought you needed to be fed," Antony teases, bumping their shoulders together as they head for the lifts.

"I do," nodding enthusiastically, Stephen grins. "Which is why I still plan on showering alone and being no more than five minutes, you can do what you like this evening though, carte blanche." He throws that out there, not really considering how it sounds - that he's giving his own Sir permission for something he is already entitled to.

"Is that so?" Antony asks, a small smile curving his lips as the doors open and he presses the button for their floor.

There's a moment of disquiet, something Stephen can't put his finger on, so he pushes it down as he drops his bag between his feet. "Yes." _Sir_

Antony reels Stephen in close again and kisses him. Just because. "Do you want to keep things casual while we're here, or do you feel like scening?"

Stephen's breath escapes him in a little burst as Antony kisses him, his hands come up to press against his lover's chest. "I'd like to do something." He lifts his gaze to meet those stunning icy blue eyes of his husband's. "I've missed the verbal humiliation," he admits, his fingers stroking over body-warmed cotton.

"Yeah? Public or private?" Antony asks in between kisses.

"Private." He still needs to rebuild his confidence in himself, and Stephen's not ready to add another layer of expectation on himself - that of being seen to be Antony's perfect boy - for others to see. If he missteps in private at least he won't have shown his Sir up.

"Sounds good to me," Antony says, reluctant to let Stephen go even when the doors open onto their floor. "We're on the end," he says finally, with a soft sigh, pulling his key card from his pocket.

He trails after his husband, his free hand caught loosely in Antony's fingers. Once inside he takes his bag through to the bedroom, dropping it on the bed and unzipping it to dig out his wash bag, clean underwear and jeans. "Five minutes, I promise!"

"I'll come looking for you if it's longer!" Antony teases, his grumbling stomach the only thing stopping him now. He settles in one of the big comfy chairs, throws his feet up on the table and pulls out his phone, going through his emails and texts from this morning.

Showered, redressed, Stephen appears with his dirty shorts and jeans in hand. "Had you been saving it up? Soaked right through my shorts and my jeans..." he smirks, looking entirely too pleased to be actually complaining.

Antony laughs. "I did behave myself while watching the floor show last night," he admits, grinning. "Turned down a couple of offers and didn't even jerk off."

"Only a couple of offers? Are you losing your touch?" Stephen winks as he folds up his dirty clothes and tucks them in the bag he carries for just such things. "Were they hot at least?"

"Very," Antony nods, eyes crinkling. "But nowhere near as hot as my husband."

"Oh smooth," Stephen nods, he parks his butt to lace his shoes. "I wish I'd been a fly on the wall at least."

"We haven't gone to the bar in a while together," Antony says, dropping his feet to the floor and standing up. "I bet if we went tonight, sat a bar stool or two away from each other, you'd get to be a fly in a minute. Or I would," he adds with a grin.

"Shall we?" Stephen reaches up to finger his collar. "This isn't very obvious is it? Or is it here? I'm so used to it now."

"I don't think it's obvious enough to stop anyone from _trying_ to hit on you," Antony says with a smile. He leans in for a kiss, thinking it certainly wouldn't have stopped him. Not until he'd known for sure. "Let's go eat. We can plot some more while scarfing down burgers."

///

Leaning back in his seat, a large glass of ice water set in front of him, Stephen surveys the room. They've got drinks, ordered their food and sprawled out in one of the booths that affords them a good view of the comings and goings of the bar.

"So yeah... bought a loft today," Stephen drawls, turning his gaze to his man. "Who'd have thought it?"

Antony chuckles. "It's a cooler purchase than a bathroom," he says. "I love that brick wall and the skylight. The kitchen's great too. Small but nicely designed."

"Yeah it's not so small that we'll be falling over each other, but not so large," he pauses to raise a brow at his husband in wry amusement, "that we'd likely lose each other for weeks in acres of marble."

"The other one's not that big," Antony protests but he's laughing. "I can't help it. The ceilings in there, the layout, the idea that it's one of only six in a historical building..." A lot of his work has been about collecting beautiful things, both rare and unique.

"I'm teasing," Stephen reaches for Antony's hand, lacing their fingers together. "It's beautiful, and if we ever find ourselves living here on a more permanent basis, then I'd would be in there in a heartbeat."

Antony nods, giving Stephen's fingers a squeeze. "It'll make a good investment though for now, like you said," he muses. "If they accept my offer."

"Oh we'll get it, one way or another," Stephen determines. He reaches for his water and takes a long drink. "You didn't tell me if it was a guy or a girl hitting on you last night?" he asks, watching as a couple enter the bar: a stunning older woman with a person of indeterminate gender on her elegant arm.

"Two guys, separately, and one girl," Antony says with a smile, following Stephen's gaze.

"A girl," Stephen turns to Antony. "Were you not tempted?" He knows Antony hasn't been with a woman since they got together, so it's getting on toward a year since his husband got that itch scratched.

Antony shakes his head. "I was missing you and she wasn't really my type."

"You're really not missing it?" Stephen drains his glass and sprawls back in his seat.

"Not actively," Antony says, then elaborates, "If I was spending the night alone and there was some incredibly hot woman who _really_ made me sit up and notice, I might take advantage of the situation but I'm not looking to fuck just anyone."

Stephen never really managed full on sex with a girl when he was still trying to pretend to everyone he was straight, so he has no particular experience to draw on. "Is it that different?" He gets that women's bodies are, on the whole, much softer than men and they smell very different, both things he struggled with when he was attempting to date a girl in his later teen years.

" _I_ think so," Antony nods. "Women are softer, wetter, they smell different, I love a gorgeous set of breasts, fisting them is _really_ different..." He smiles. "But I prefer men. Always have."

"You _fist_ women?" Stephen's eyes widen at that. "Huh... you just love using those hands huh?"

Antony laughs. "Once in a while I even get a woman who's into me fisting both her ass and pussy at the same time. That's pretty mind-blowing. Like fisting you with both hands. Or jerking off inside you."

"Yeah that's always intense." Understatement of the year, given that often Stephen's so far gone by the time Antony gets his dick in as well as his hand he has trouble processing what's happening.

Antony sits back as their meals are delivered then leans forward again. "Does it bother you at all that I like women too?"

"It used to, when we first got together," Stephen admits as he shakes out his napkin and tips salt over his fries. "Whenever we came to the club I used to watch you to see if you were looking, checking any woman out, but as we got more serious it kinda fell away, and I stopped freaking out about it. Now? I might be a bit uncomfortable if you wanted that, but that's a long way from where I was. It's nothing I'm going to lose sleep over."

"Good, because it's definitely not a threat of any kind," Antony says. "And one thing I don't do with women, never have, is play with humiliation. I'm not quite sure why but the desire isn't even there. Which means my bulletproof kink is off the table with them."

"I thought my ass was your bulletproof kink?" Stephen teases as he lifts his burger to his mouth.

"That's true," Antony says, eyes lighting up. "See? Your ass, our shared love of humiliation... I've got everything I need." He grins.

Stephen's nose wrinkles up in amusement as he chews his food. As ever, it's perfect and he relishes it. Swallowing he nudges Antony with his foot. "Glad to hear it, darling man."

Antony takes a few bites of his burger, smiling at his husband, glad they found the places they wanted so easily and that the rest of the day wasn't spent with Scott, regardless of how nice the guy is. "What do you want to shop for?" he asks, popping a fry in his mouth. "Do you want to look at furniture for the loft?" The closing they'd negotiated is only a month away.

Nodding Stephen runs a bunch of fries through some ketchup and lifts them to his mouth. "Yeah, bed, sofa, tables and chairs, the rest can be done bit by bit."

Antony nods. "We could go back to SoHo, check out the neighbourhood more, there's a whole slew of furniture places nearby."

"Sure, I'd love that." And he does, just hanging out with Antony, just doing normal coupley type activities give him a thrill. It's the simple things that other people, people who don't have to hide their relationship, take for granted.

Antony smiles. "Are we having the place painted before we move in?"

"Yes! All that dark grey, no thank you." Shaking his head, Stephen wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I was thinking something lighter, warmer, what do you think?"

"I think that sounds perfect," Antony says. "Especially with that exposed brick and the smaller rooms. I'm sure we can grab some chips at a paint store too."

"That downstairs bedroom, do you want to keep it as a spare, or could we put some play kit in?" Stephen pops his last fry in his mouth and settles back in his seat, wiping his fingers with the napkin. "Or shall we just wait and see?"

"There's the desk in the kitchen, so I don't need an office," Antony muses, going over the floor plan in his head, "and the entrance to the garden is to the side so we can put a lock on the room. We'd need to do something about window coverings. We don't want to lose the light but we don't want anyone peeking in either." He looks up, smiling at Stephen. "That's a great idea."

"Okay, well you do what you feel necessary for security, then we'll get the place all painted and furnished, and I'll have a look see what kit might be cool." It's been awhile since Stephen did this, when he bought his small house he'd just had it painted in neutrals and didn't pay a lot of attention to what he put in it. And of course he's had little input to Antony's place, it was beautiful when he moved in.

"Sounds good," Antony says, finishing the last bite of his burger and pushing his plate away. "Ready for some shopping?"

"Are we using your card?" Stephen pushes up from the table and grabs his jacket and body warmer, his baseball cap stuffed in the pocket. "Seen as I already blew two mil today," there is both humour and no little amount of satisfaction in his tone.

"Yes, we are," Antony says with a laugh as he signs the bill for their lunch. "So make sure you choose what you really like, without looking at the price tags first."

"I can't stop myself from doing that," Stephen points out as he offers Antony his hand. "I hope I never stop doing that to be honest." Leaning in he presses a smacking kiss to Antony's cheek, "But thank you."

"I'm not saying spend an uncomfortable amount," Antony says, linking their fingers. "But you're going to be using this furniture for a long time. Find what you like first then see if you can live with the price. Otherwise you're just settling."

"Okay, okay," Stephen concedes, "I'll pick what I like." They step out into the fresh air and Antony waves over a club car to take them back out shopping. "We're sticking to leather right? For the sofa?"

"If that's what you want," Antony says, letting Stephen slide in the back before joining. "I'm willing to give my input and help you make choices but the end decisions are all yours with the loft."

"Leather wipes clean," Stephen grins, "It's practical, and it smells good..."

"That's true," Antony agrees, grinning in return, holding Stephen's hand while he still can, their shoulders pressed together. He laughs. "Very true. Do you think we can fit a king size in the bedroom?" He was too busy noticing how small the room was, period, to take a good look at the size of the bed.

"I think we can squeeze one in," Stephen rubs his thumb against the back of Antony's hand. "It's not like we need a dance floor is it? You're just spoiled with what we have at home."

Antony gives a soft laugh. "No, I guess not, and if we have the spare room with some kit in it, we don't need the room in the bedroom."

"Will you have a chance to show me your new offices before we have to go home?" Stephen's intrigued to see Antony's new work space.

"Sure." Antony nods, smiling. "We can stop by in the morning before we head over to Scott's. I already have the keys."

"Did you already pick out your office?"

"Not exactly," Antony says. "We chose a full floor of pretty open loft space and we're going to have someone come in and break it up some. Make closed offices for those who need them and a couple meeting rooms and try and leave a fair bit open otherwise. It's got four-sided exposure which means the natural light coming in is amazing." He smiles at Stephen. "You can help me figure out where I want my office."

"Huh and there I was going to offer up a quickie to christen your space and leave you with a happy memory for when you're having a bad day at the office," Stephen leans in to nibble at Antony's earlobe.

"I'm sure we can still find a place for that," Antony says quickly.

Stephen's laugh is throaty, full of satisfaction that he can get to his husband like that. "Yeah? Thought you might say that."

"If I ever don't respond like that?" Antony grins and kisses Stephen. "You'd better check my temperature. I'll probably be coming down with something."

"Noted." He reaches up, cupping Antony's neck and pulling him back in for a deeper kiss, they're about to spend hours being unable to touch each other, he wants one last kiss to hold him over.

Antony leans into the kiss, their tongues tangling, his body responding eagerly, this man setting him on fire like no one else ever has. "I love you so much," he whispers fiercely.

"I love you too," Stephen growls back, biting at Antony's lower lip with sharp teeth. "Now back up, I'm not fucking in the back of this car..."

"No? Not up for round two?" Antony teases, but it is just that, a tease. He can wait til tonight. Wait until they're both worked up from hours not touching each other and some time spent in the bar, watching others watching them.

"Always, just not right now." He shoves at Antony's shoulder to push him away, smiling, his eyes never leaving his husband's face. "Won't hurt for you to carry a hard-on around for a while Mr Starr, you're too used to having what you want when you want it."

Antony pretends to pout for a second then laughs. "Again with the spoiled," he kids, nudging their shoulders together, his eyes crinkling. He presses the intercom button. "You can let us out up here," he tells the driver. "Next lights."

Stephen takes a breath, pulls his cap out of his pocket and tugs it into place. "Right, shopping." He gives Antony's had one last squeeze before letting go and sliding out of the car as it stops.


End file.
